Sitting here on the floor of B&N, our fav place, sort of a home away from home, I am faced with a truth that everyone just needs love. I've felt it before, in public spaces. Where anonymity can become an aggregate of existence, that is illusive, even false. To think for one moment that we can be side by side and not somehow be connected is the first lie. The second is worse, that my actions do not affect your mood.
My books, on my lap, I struggle to concentrate for what ever internal reason, and I am commanded by a insistent restlessness. So, I move. To another location that does not really hold any better magic accept to be near different people. People perhaps who are less anxious. I don't know what it is about my antenna that can pick up internal dialogue and I am receiving more static than I am able to distinguish.
And so now, I recall watching, a gentle man, with particularly baggy pants, and a table top full of food bags and drinks, covered with red sweet leftovers. His stance was restless, as was my internal receiver. He had a difficult time balancing and turned to find the seat underneath him. I nearly asked him, out loud, "Can you find the chair?" But, it was low enough and my movements innocuous enough, to go unnoticed. In fact, it seemed the whole outpouring of shakiness passed by any cognizant humans, in our three foot circumference.
He made it down and back up again, and I noticed, to my consternation, wetness on his bottom and instantly I recalled that I'm in a public place. Twice this week, I've seen grown men, incontinent of both bowel and bladder, in public locations. And I can only hold onto, gratitude, for the reminder, we are all human beings. And we need to know that we are loved.
I left my temporary location, with him interacting with two young school girls, not particularly severed, from their kindness. And I was enchanted with just that small amount of contact amidst the general distance of public spheres.
Ah, sweet humanity!
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